On the topic of hosiery
by sonofon
Summary: Shinji talks incessantly and Shiraishi tries to get a word in. And then the conversation turns to briefs. And boxers. And everything in between. "So, are you for boxers or briefs?"


A/N: The idea for this came up while talking to Sweet Obsidian Rain, so part of the credit goes to her.

--

"You enjoy talking, don't you?" Shiraishi said.

"Well, yes, I enjoy talking. Don't you? I like to think that by talking, I'm further enhancing the knowledge of the world and that I'm making my presence known to everyone at the same time. Don't you like talking? Have I already said that?"

"Sometimes," he said.

"Sometimes. What do you mean by that: '_sometimes_'. That means you like to talk at times and at other times you don't, yes? But what sense does that make? It's like saying that you only _sometimes_ like tennis. Which isn't true at all because you _always_ like tennis. It's not like you only like tennis on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and forget about the other days."

"You really do enjoy talking, don't you?"

"What gives you that impression?" Shinji replied. "I mean, in your little schedule of sometimes liking to talk and other times liking to stay quiet, what's today? And how can I count on the fact that you'll like to talk today? What if there was awkward silence? I hate awkward silence. That's why I fill in the missing parts by talking. It breaks the ice. Oh, maybe you don't think so, or maybe you don't agree with me. Okay. That's fine. Or perhaps today is the day you want to talk. Either way, I won't know it, so the best solution, obviously, is for me to talk. You have a problem with that?"

Shiraishi hurriedly said, "None at all."

"Good. Because Kamio always answers that question with a 'hell yes!' and while I don't mind it when he says it -- I can still beat him in tennis, after all -- I don't like it when outsiders say so. It's insulting."

"Well, it's rude, too, I suppose."

"Say," Shinji said, eying him. "Do you know who I am?"

"Your name is Shinji. You like to talk. You go to Fudomine. Your captain is Tachibana."

"What a wonderful synopsis of my life. Short and sweet: it's best that way, I think. Yes, Tachibana-buchou is a very good captain, don't you think? He's always motivating us. Inspiring us. He will be a very good motivational speaker one day -- not that he isn't already, of course, but I mean for a lot for a people. Think of an auditorium. Speaking in an auditorium; the voice echoes across. You know?"

"Sure. But do you know who I am?"

"Sure. Your name is Shiraishi. You have bandages on your arm for no reason at all -- except maybe for aesthetic purposes, but I don't know. You go to Shit -- no. I mean, yes. Shitenhouji. I think. I'm pretty sure. There is a person from your school who knew Tachibana-buchou BF."

"BF?"

"Before Fudomine. And AF is After Fudomine, but no one says that yet for obvious reasons. It's too sad of a day to think of, Tachibana-buchou says. Can you imagine that? Our captain is a very sentimental man; I want to say boy, but he really isn't a boy. I don't think so, at least, and lots of people agree with me. Don't you agree with me?"

Shiraishi blinked. "You were talking about Chitose, I think?"

"Yes, him. Tachibana-buchou is a much better tennis player though. No offense to you or him or anything, but I've got school loyalties. I mean, I'm forever part of Fudomine, even if you dragged me to Shit -- no. Shitenhouji, of course. What am I saying? Oh, dear me: anyway, I'll kick and scream all the way there and you'll get charged for attempted kidnapping."

Shiraishi raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing in the first place."

"That's good to hear. I mean, you can't really trust people nowadays. The only person I really trust is Tachibana-buchou. Maybe Kamio. Sometimes. Well, I wouldn't trust him if my life was in his hands though. You know. I'd be scared. But I would trust Tachibana-buchou. Have I mentioned that he's a really good captain? He's going to amount to someone one day, and I'm going to do everything I can to support him. Though, he does have one vice."

Inching closer, Shiraishi asked, "Which is?" Because, hey, maybe he could use this in a future match against him.

"He wears briefs," Shinji said, totally serious. "I think it's horrible. But it's horribly, terribly, and terrifyingly true. Briefs are _the_ worse invention in the history of mankind. Think of all the famous people in history who wore briefs. Well, they are buried dead people now. The briefs didn't help them one bit. I'm a boxers sort of person. You may have realized that by now. I don't know, it just _feels_ nicer. Loose and all."

"Ah," Shiraishi weakly said.

"And, really, well." Shinji paused. "You wouldn't know because you don't go to my school. But Tachibana-buchou always wears them. He's started a fashion for everyone but me. Kamio calls me a nonconformist. Of course I'm a nonconformist: I don't like briefs. And it's so awkward to go shopping for briefs with Kamio. I hate it; I guess you wouldn't understand that either. Anyhow, Tachibana-buchou's briefs have prints on them. _Prints_. Little checkers on them. Or just plain white. Those are the worst. And quotes on some of them. I couldn't read what it said though. Kamio rudely kicked me in the head and said I was too close."

"I would imagine so." Yet, in a disturbing way, the idea of Shinji leaning too close to Tachibana's briefs was something Shiraishi could visual quite well. He mentally slapped himself.

"It said something like: what's essential is invisible . . . And then I couldn't see. Kamio kicks really hard, you know. I had a headache that lasted for weeks on weeks. And obviously I couldn't explain to Tachibana-buchou _why_ I had a headache. Can you imagine how awkward and disrespectful it'd be for me to tell him: 'Oh, it's because I was leaning too close to your crotch.' Well, yeah."

"Er, why would you know anyway?" Shiraishi was more than mildly perturbed by now. "I mean, what his, er, _briefs_ . . ."

"Duh, we all change in the locker rooms together," Shinji dully told him. "And sometimes, Buchou comes in wearing just that. You know, when he's on his way to take a shower. And, well . . ." Shinji stood up and demonstrated.

Shiraishi winced. "That really wasn't necessary."

"I thought you'd prefer it that way though. Maybe because you wouldn't have to hear me explain it. Maybe you were tired of hearing my constant chatter. Rambling, some people call it. Still others call it ranting. Well, whatever. I have my on-and-off days, too, you know. Today, I wanted to use a visual aid. Hey. What about you? Are you for briefs or boxers?"

"Um," Shiraishi said.

"Don't tell me: _sometimes_. I bet you don't mind swinging either way. I think that's horrible. That's a horrible and vague answer. You should be ashamed of yourself. That answer is noncommittal and elusive. You're grabbing out for something that you can't have. Well, what is it? Briefs or boxers?"

"Briefs," he stumbled out, and immediately regretted it.

"_No_," said Shinji, horrifically stunned. "It _can't_ be. Not _you._"

"Excuse me," and Shiraishi coughed, wishing desperately that he could be dead.

"But briefs are the worst. I didn't think you'd be like that, and even if you were, maybe I could have persuaded you. Turn you away from the Other Side." Shinji sighed melodramatically and tossed back his hair, just for the effect. "But I _suppose_ everyone has the freedom to choose." As if Japan was a boxers-only regime, and brief-wearers were subjected to labor camp work and oppression.

"I switch," Shiraishi quickly added, "_sometimes_."

"Ah, there's that word again. But I don't mind anymore. 'Sometimes'. It has a nice ring to it, almost. It lets you be on both sides without committing. It's good and bad at the same time. I mean, what if it was a war? Then you'd be hanged for double-crossing, betrayal, all that stuff. Which side would get the dubious honor, I do wonder. Maybe the side that you betrayed first, who knows?" Shinji beamed more than he probably should have. "But now that it's been said and done, what type of briefs do you wear?"

"Ex_cuse_ me?"

"Well, you heard the question. Would you like me to repeat it? I said, what type--"

"I heard. But don't you think that that's maybe, well, _none of your business_?"

"I appear to have struck a nerve," Shinji apathetically announced. "Well, to inform you: it is my business."

"What justification could possibly explain--"

"Think of it like this. I talk to you and you leave. Ten minutes later, you're dead. Who are the police going to have a nice chat with?" Shinji pointed at himself. "Me, of course. So now your death has indirectly involved me, even though I had nothing to do with your death. Everyone knows Fuji's the one who killed you."

Ignoring the jab, Shiraishi said: "That's murder. This is underwear."

"But what if you and I talked about underwear, you left, and soon you were found hanging off a building, a pair of pantyhose around your broken neck." Shinji relished only temporarily in the image. "People will start asking if you were a briefs or boxers person. And I will thereby be involved, since I was the last person you spoke to on the subject of hosiery. In short, it is my business."

"I fail to see the connection."

"And you don't need to. Just tell me."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Why not?"

"There's plenty of reasons for that!"

"I bet it's Hello Kitty and you're just embarrassed to tell me."

"Oh, my _God_."

"So I was right."

"_Heavens_, no. I was merely shocked that you could be as vulgar as to suggest such a thing. And why am I even in this conversation in the first place?"

Shinji marveled. "I believe that's the most you've said at one go today."

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome. But you avoid the question. I shall provide my explanation anyway: you look like a Hello Kitty sort of person. Maybe it's the hair." He gestured his hand midair, but Shiraishi understood very little of it. "Or the bandages on your arms. Or both."

"I can't believe this."

"I can't believe it either. I never would have imagined it to be Hello Kitty; Pucca is so much more likable. But would you believe me if I said that from the moment I saw you, I've gotten these Hello Kitty vibes from you? Smart, tingling sensations. Ephemeral, but lingering. Like the smell of your aunt that lingers in your house for weeks after she's left."

"At this point, I probably would."

"Don't tell me this is the first time we've agreed on something today."

"It's a miracle," Shiraishi said, almost relieved. He wiped his forehead with his hand and sighed heavily.

"Indeed." A pause. "But just one more question: where do you buy those Hello Kitty briefs? I'm thinking of buying some for Tachibana-buchou. His birthday's coming up."


End file.
